Koibito
by Mad Mary Kidd
Summary: One-shot, made entirely of sap. A moment of stress, and Trowa lets an endearment slip.


By: Mad Mary Kidd

Pairing: 3+4, hints of 1+2

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: So sappy even I feel a bit sick. Sappy!Trowa, Bleedy!Quatre, Wise-and-unsubtle!Duo

Disclaimer: Story is mine, characters are borrowed

Intro: Behind-the-scenes scene after Dorothy puts a hole in Quatre. Very very slightly AU, but (I think) worth it.

* * *

**Koibito**

Trowa struggled along the corridor, knowing that time was running out. Quatre was dragging his feet more and more with every step; Trowa wasn't sure that even if he could get him back to Sandrock the smaller boy would be able to pilot it to safety. Suddenly he stopped, to a sigh of relief from Quatre.

"This is ridiculous," said Trowa. "There's no way we'll make it back to the Gundams before this place blows. Come here."

Painfully aware of the fragile feelings that had grown between them, and even more aware that if he didn't do this those feelings wouldn't stand a ghost of a chance, he bent down and with his free arm, swept Quatre off his feet and up into his arms.

Quatre made a feeble noise of protest (_If he thinks I'm going to let him struggle he can see what he can do to stop me,_ thought Trowa), but soon after Trowa had continued walking, his head drooped onto Trowa's shoulder and he passed out.

Trowa looked down at the blond boy unconscious in his arms, and his mouth tightened. He had to get him out of here, and the only way was to get him to pilot Sandrock. There was no room for even a small passenger in any of the Gundams; they simply hadn't been designed as anything more than one-man killing machines. There wasn't even a first aid box.

He had to wake Quatre up and get him to stay awake long enough to fly back to the stricken Peacemillion, but with Quatre losing blood as fast as he was Trowa had his doubts if the boy would even be alive by the time they made it back.

_No, don't think like that. He'll be fine. He's been through a lot, it's no wonder he's tired. He'll be fine. All he needs is some rest, and he can have that when we get back to the others._

Trowa moved steadily along the corridor, checking Quatre's breathing periodically as he went.

Finally they arrived at the docking port, and Trowa bent into a crouch to set Quatre gently on the ground. They still had a few minutes.

"Quatre, wake up," he called. Quatre's eyelids fluttered and his lips tightened as he awoke.

"Trowa?" he said muzzily.

"Quatre, you have to pilot Sandrock again for a little bit so we can get you to safety," said Trowa, wondering how the hell he was going to get the boy into the cockpit. The lack of gravity would help, but it was still going to be awkward.

"Now?"

"Yes, Qua-chan, now. It won't be for long, and then you can rest but I need you to stay awake for a while. Can you do that?"

"Qua-chan..." said Quatre, smiling. Trowa's ears went pink. He hadn't meant to let the endearment slip, but he'd been thinking it without realising it for a while now, ever since he had entered the room to find Dorothy slumped in one corner and Quatre, bleeding, in another. If he was honest, Quatre had been his Qua-chan for some months; it was only now that he really knew it to be true.

"Yeah. Can you do it, Qua-chan? Can you pilot Sandrock for me?"

"Yes. But only for you," said Quatre, his head already drooping again. "Not for anyone else..."

"Okay, for me, Qua-chan. Ready?"

He put on his own helmet and helped Quatre on with his, and opened the sealed hatchway into the airlock.

He slipped his arm around the boy's shoulders again and lifted him up, carrying him into the airlock and sealing the door behind them. Turning, he opened the other door and stepped through into the docking port proper and pushing off from the ground toward Sandrock's cockpit. They reached it eventually, and Trowa reached out an arm to grab onto the door and bring them to a halt. To his surprise and relief, Quatre reached out a hand too, and began to pull himself into the cockpit.

"I'm okay," he said, one arm clamped around his waist, his face grey and contorted with pain.

"Not long now," said Trowa, as much to reassure himself as Quatre. He helped Quatre pull the seat belt around himself, his brows drawing together in a frown as Quatre took his arm away from the wound, revealing how badly he was bleeding.

"I'll follow you out, and if anything happens I'll pull you into Peacemillion, okay?" he said, once Quatre was safely strapped in. Quatre nodded once and watched as Trowa pushed off toward Heavyarms.

Trowa quickly climbed into the cockpit and strapped himself in, waiting for Sandrock to make a move. To his relief Quatre wasted no time. Moving slower than he would have liked, he followed Sandrock to the hatchway and out into space.

A long tense few minutes followed, during which Trowa kept up an almost constant stream of words to keep Quatre awake, communicating them via the radio. He switched the frequency a few times to broadcast a message to the crew on the Peacemillion, asking for a medical crew in the landing bay. Quatre's answers were getting fainter and fainter as the Peacemillion came into view, and Trowa was beginning to break out into a sweat. Just a bit more, just a bit more...

After what felt like about three hundred years they came into to docking port. The medical crew were already on hand, and had gotten Quatre out of Sandrock and onto a stretcher and away just as Trowa touched down on the ground, having exited Heavyarms.

"Tro..." called Duo, who had come to meet them. Trowa nodded an acknowledgement before heading for the door where the team had taken Quatre, but Duo grabbed his arm.

"He'll be okay, they'll fix him up. There's nothing more you can do now."

"But..."

"Come on, you're not so hot yourself. You need some bandages and some food, in that order. You can visit him as soon as they're done, okay?"

Duo would not take no for an answer, so Trowa had no choice but to go with him.

"You missed Yuy's fireworks, man that was one awesome show! He's only gone and saved the world, and you missed it!"

"I was a little busy," said Trowa somewhat tersely.

Duo just threw a grin over his shoulder. "I know," he said gently. "You were busy saving your koibito, it's okay. I'm sure somebody videotaped it."

"Who said he's my..." began Trowa, before realising that when one was in a hole it was best to stop digging.

"Come on, T-man. I'm not stupid. He was your koibito from day one, admit it. Look, no-one minds, okay? We think it's cute."

"We?"

"Uh, heh heh... hey, look, I found a first aid box. Lemme take a look at those cuts, okay?"

Trowa was too tired to argue, or pursue his line of questioning further, so he allowed Duo's brilliantly unsubtle subject change to stand. Evidently his and Quatre's friendship was the subject of some speculation, but Trowa simply could not find it in him to care, not while Quatre was so ill. He put up with Duo's less-than-gentle first aid, and promised to stay put while the American went in search of food.

Once they'd eaten (Duo already had, but he'd never let that stop him from eating a second meal. Trowa couldn't help but wonder how on earth he managed to stay so thin) Trowa got up to go and see Quatre. Realising he was fresh out of excuses, Duo allowed this but on the condition that they would leave again if the doctors hadn't finished with the Arab yet. He just about avoided the word 'surgeons', but Trowa heard it anyway, his mouth tightening into a thin line of worry.

They arrived in the medical wing to find a green clad surgeon already coming towards them, removing his mask as he came.

"He's going to be fine," said the surgeon, before Trowa had even opened his mouth. "We'll need to get him to earth so he can recuperate properly, but he's doing fine. He's not awake yet, and he won't be for a while but you can sit with him if you like. Just let them bring him into a private room and you can go in. Okay?"

Trowa nodded, the relief evident in his voice and expression. "Thanks," he managed.

Finally they were allowed in to see him. Trowa stood up to go in, but Duo stayed where he was.

"I'll be out here when you're done, okay?" he said, smiling.

Koibito... Sweetheart...

Trowa took Quatre's smaller hand in his own, and pondered the Japanese word. Duo must have learned it from Heero, but Trowa was damned if he could think of a reason for it to come up in casual conversation.

Koibito. Koi. He smiled and gently squeezed Quatre's fingers, waiting for him to wake up.

~OWARI~


End file.
